


Souls In The Dark

by FiendMaz



Series: Oceans Will Part In This War Of Hearts [15]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jace Wayland, BAMF Magnus Bane, Blood, Character Development, Developing Friendships, Hurt Magnus Bane, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Magnus Bane Being Magnus Bane, Minor Violence, Protective Alec, Protective Jace Wayland, Rescue, Worried Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiendMaz/pseuds/FiendMaz
Summary: Magnus sets out alone to rescue Jace fresh from his Valentine-drugs-induced coma. He has a deadline, some valuable contacts and a whole load of problems that largely consists of emotional baggage and least of which is his depleted magic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, it is here! And I'm back from my Internship though I still have a ton of papers to write for it. Ugh.
> 
> Thanks for the patience, kudos and comments! And welcome, my new readers!
> 
> Special mentions to MalecShip, Skarry, Shalilace, Ducks, KamiQueen, AlleyCat07, TaylorSabrine and Mitsuki170 for giving kudos to most if not all the fics in this series during my hiatus!
> 
> PS. To the enthusiastic JoeNeal, I hope the wait wasn't too much of a torture.
> 
> Title and Lyrics from Souls In The Dark by WAVZ.
> 
> __  
> This series is set in the Shadowhunters (TV) world so some things aren't as it is in the book but those that aren't touched upon by the show yet are based on book canon as obtained through the Shadowhunters wikia. The rest are written with liberty.

Early morning in the quiet neighbourhood of Grunewald, a faint noise could be heard from the normally empty brick red villa shrouded in thick forestry situated right on the edge of the bank. Inside its top floor was Magnus Bane, a lost expression on his face, sat by the foot of a king sized royal purple bed, hands clasped and head bowed.

His mind was replaying the last hour he had with Alexander along with the flashes of random fragments from the drugged dream he had. He was tired mentally, emotionally, maybe even still physically. His body had gone through hell and his mind even more so. He would have been glad if he could forget whatever he dreamt up as what conclusions he had gained from it plagued his mind either way.

He ought to move, to start sending off fire messages to Seelies, to at least take out thicker clothing to cover himself from Berlin’s chill. He did none of those things and simply stared at the still Hazel River. Voices were whispering to him, shouting, and he thought maybe he had finally gone insane but no, they were voices he was familiar with; voices he could put names and faces to. They were reminding him of his failures and how unworthy he was; undeserving.

He wanted them gone.

A particularly strong gust of freezing wind swept in from the open window, caressing the top of a varnished dark oak table and right past Magnus who promptly – and violently – shivered. At long last, he moved, hastily flipping his luggage open to draw out a blue wool coat with a fur collar. Wrapped up, he resumed his far look, absentmindedly rubbing his hands together for much needed warmth.

His phone buzzed and he jumped, snatching it from where it vibrated by the table to check the notification. His eyes widened when he saw the coordinates of his old phone’s whereabouts and he tapped the numbers.

**_Michigan Central Station_ **

Well, he really couldn’t simply portal over and barge in to grab Jace.  Except he could. But then he shouldn’t. It was undoubtedly a terrible idea. Terrible. But what if..? Magnus shook his head and slapped himself. “No, Magnus.” He told himself firmly. “It’s definitely a terrible idea.”

His eyes drifted back to the phone’s screen and a whine escaped his throat. He made a few swipes to make the phone track itself again and… dead. The signal was dead. They weren’t there anymore. That or Valentine had a warlock that was heavily warding off the whole place. Maybe. He had so far never tried warding against human technology so he didn’t know for sure if it was possible. It probably was. He could probably do it.

Magnus wrinkled his nose and turned away, his phone careened in the air to bounce on the bed. He moved to sit on the chair by the table and pulled out some papers and a pen from the drawer. The early morning light filtered in to aid his vision and he started writing.

This, he thought as he composed the letter, was such a medieval method of contact and he briefly wondered if he should ask his Seelie contacts for their numbers. He binned the thought immediately with a snort. The Faerieland most likely had no signal towers much like Alicante.

Then again, he shouldn’t scoff at using fire messages. They were fail-safe after all. Well, mostly.

He was halfway through the paper when he noticed that he was repeatedly penning one word: _Settle_. His heart thudded painfully and he made the paper vanish with a jerk of his finger. He took a deep steadying breath and restarted his task.

When he successfully finished without further incident, he picked up the three pieces of paper all addressed to different Seelies and, after a series of complicated gestures, made them burst into flames before him. That done, it was now a waiting game and he fully intended to rest as much as possible so that his magic could be restored back to its full capacity.

Magnus made his way to the bed and flopped down face first, groping blindly beside him until he successfully grabbed onto his phone. The phone was already lit up when he lifted it to his eye level and there was another new notification. This time it was an online message from the bartender at Hunter’s Moon back in New York. There had to be an emergency or something equally alarming for Pete to bother messaging him. He frowned and opened it.

_> >06:09 [werewolves and vampires fight imminent. need intermediary.]_

He sighed. Clearly, his temporary leave wasn’t common knowledge.

_< <06:11 [What’s the issue?]_

_> >06:12 [teenage werewolf killed and drained of blood outside bar.]_

_< <06:13 [Rogue vampires?]_

_> >06:14 [unknown. culprit fled.]_

Magnus paused, fingers poised and ready to type a reply. It would be best to send Catarina so that she could inform everyone at Hunter’s Moon that she was the current High Warlock of Brooklyn until further notice but then, it made more sense to contact Raphael and Luke to have them sort out their own people.

Ah, fuck it.

He got up, took two more pieces of paper from the drawer and scribbled identical messages to Luke and Raphael. Much like earlier, the letters burst into flames before vanishing. He went back to the bed and snuggled into the pillows, typing a concise reply before shoving his phone under the duvet.

_< <06:20 [Intermediaries on the way.]_

 

*~*~*~*

 

Hours later, the distinct smell of smoke permeated the room, making Magnus scrunch his nose in annoyance as he was roused from his sleep. He yawned and rubbed at his bleary eyes. His dream had been unpleasant. It was merely a rerun of his previous drug-induced dream. He was so sick of it.

A burnt paper was perched innocently at the edge of the bed, messy scrawl obscured by a very white hardened leaf on top of it. There was a single sentence on the leaf from Meliorn that simply informed him the Seelie Queen was as of yet undecided.

Undecided. He scoffed. That meant the Seelies were waiting to see which side would be most advantageous to join, that much was clear. What was bothering him, however, was that there was an offer of alliance in the first place. Valentine had never before separated the Seelies from the rest of the Downworlders.

Though, the Seelies were half-Angels so perhaps…

Magnus rolled his eyes with a great sigh and flicked the leaf away to peer at paper beneath it. He yawned before summoning a pen to jot down a reply on the back of the paper. Yet another quick show of fire and a text later, he was back asleep as if nothing had happened.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Rain pelted down all around and lightning stroked through the inky midnight sky; it was beautiful in a way but Magnus didn’t notice. His attention was captured by the iconic Landmark London Hotel as the black cab he was in rolled onto the driveway. Warm yellow light emanated from the proud historic edifice and a prompt doorman quickly approached to open the passenger door, greeting him with a bow.

Magnus stepped out gracefully, his outward appearance betraying nothing of the inner turmoil and leftover weakness from being in the mercy of Valentine’s drugs. He swiftly entered the hotel and approached a genial looking man with curling black hair and a toothy smile. “Salvatore, you’re looking lovely as always.” Donning on his charming smirk, he walked closely with the man as they walked further into the hotel.

“Ever the charmer, Mr. Bane. It’s been quite a while since your last visit. I’m delighted you rang me.”

Magnus chuckled. “I have missed the Champagne Cocktail.”

“I’ll have it by your table.” Salvatore assured. “Your guest arrived five minutes ago.”

They entered the bar and Magnus straight away spotted a noticeable glamoured woman he knew to have amethyst skin and faerie wings. He followed Salvatore to the table and slid onto the couch with a rather serious expression.

“I’ll have your drinks shortly.” Salvatore said. “Mr. Bane, feel free to stay after hours.”

Magnus winked at the man before focusing back on the woman across him. “Evening, Aeval. Are you still working as a chorus girl?”

“I am, actually. The Tiller Girls are making a revival.”

“Ah, The Tiller Girls. Those were good times.” Magnus remarked as Salvatore arrived to place both their drinks on the table. He nodded his thanks to the man and picked his glass up, surveying the faerie over the rim. “So, is there something you want?”

“I’ve been hearing some… unfortunate things. I was hoping you could clear them up for me.” Aeval murmured, leaning close to prop her elbows on the table. “How about you?”

“Have you heard of Valentine’s return?” Magnus started. He knew Aeval was detached from all things in the Shadow World, content in knowing what was happening and nothing else. It saved her in the last war, it would most likely save her again.

“What about it?”

“A Shadowhunter named Jace Wayland will be leading a team of Circle members to speak to the Queen. I want you to find out which portal they’ll use and the exact time they do.” Magnus worded carefully. “You know how this works, Aeval.” He reminded lightly of their past agreement to give precise, useful information to each other.

The faerie tipped her glass to him in a sort of acknowledgement. “I want to know what happened to Meliorn in New York. There are rumours that he was detained by the New York Institute but,” She glanced around. “No one is saying anything concrete.”

Magnus kept his face impassive though inside, his mind whirred. He knew what she was getting at. For some reason, Meliorn’s fate wasn’t being spread which could mean that the Seelie Queen didn’t want the Faeries to know Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike had aided in the rescue. That didn’t exactly bode well. Though, it could just as easily be strategic having the information untold. “He was detained. The Clave did not believe a word he said and he was sent to the City of Bones.”

“And?”

Magnus sipped his drink. “A group of Shadowhunters sought the help of the New York werewolf pack and vampire clan to rescue him. He’s alive as you know.”

Aeval smiled briefly. “That I do.” She placed her half-drunk glass on the table and straightened up. “I’ll get the information you wish before the event takes place. It may, however, be hard to come by. If I cannot fulfil it, you will know and I will owe you a favour.”

“Of course,” Magnus finished his drink and set his own glass down. “No one must know.”

“As always.”

Satisfied, Magnus stood and waved Salvatore over. He passed on an envelope that the man took – though not without squeezing his hand – and turned back to Aeval. “I’ll be taking my leave.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Hard raps of wood on wood, loud exhales and sharp grunts made a rapid staccato noise to echo around the training centre and ops room. The taps of solid heels and heavy blows serving as the bass for the accidental music Jocelyn and Clary were making alongside Alec’s kickboxing workout with the punching bags.

Far off, a heavy _woosh_ sounded and Alec paused in his regimen to step a few steps backwards. His hazel eyes were narrowed as he eyed the opening arch of the training room to the ops centre. Almost instantly, a woman walked into view, skin a smooth chocolate-brown and dressed in a sunny yellow dress. Her side-profile of slanting eyes, bifurcated nose and full lips were so familiar that Alec found himself walking towards the woman before he even made a conscious decision about it.

He had Lydia call her in yesterday to check Camille’s things but mostly, he wanted information on Magnus. For the past two days he had texted and called to no avail. There was no call back or text in reply. Not one. To say he was worried would be an understatement. It had only been two days and he knew Magnus was strong but the knowledge did nothing to dampen his anxieties.

He caught up with Catarina before she could enter his mother’s office – Lydia’s office. No, _their_ office. The fact that the Clave accepted his and Lydia’s proposal to lead the Institute together was still a fact he had a hard time wrapping his head around but that was far from the point at the moment.

“Catarina!”

The mild-mannered woman turned around with a slight smile. “Hello Alec.” She looked behind her at the door then back. “I guess I don’t need to bother Lydia then. Will it solely be the regular strengthening of the wards?”

“Oh,” Alec furrowed his brows, momentarily thrown off. “I didn’t call you for that but maybe Lydia did. The things we took from Camille’s place still haven’t been looked through. If you could do that first, I’ll ask Lydia about the wards.”

“Sure, where are the things?”

Alec grabbed a passing Shadowhunter. “Philip, lead Ms. Loss to the fifth storage room and don’t allow anyone else to enter.”

“Am I guarding her?”

“Yes.” Alec nodded at Catarina and entered the office. He mirrored Lydia’s frowning expression the moment his eyes landed on her face. “Something wrong?”

“What?” Lydia looked up. “Oh. No. I’m just cross-examining the leads we got.” She sighed.

“Write your notes down and I can take over.”

Lydia made a noncommittal noise and swept her gaze over the cluttered table. “Did you want something?”

“Honestly.” Alec rolled his eyes. Since his return from a temporary stay at Magnus’, he had quickly figured out that there was a very big flaw to his and Lydia’s partnership. The flaw being that they were both perfectionists and efficient. Clary called them workaholics. It meant that neither of them saw much need in delegating work to the other as one of them could likewise as easily finish it as the other. Of course, they never seem to take into consideration that they could get stressed out from it all what with Valentine’s return giving them extra work to do. In fact, he found out that the sole reason he had paperwork to bring back to Magnus’ before was because extra paperwork came in during noon and he would arrive more or less in time for them. He couldn’t exactly fault Lydia though because he was guilty of overworking himself; something he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been disgruntled by Lydia doing the same thing. “Catarina’s here about the wards.”

Lydia perked up. “She’s here? I need her to check the wards and strengthen them if need be. With the times, it’s best to be prepared and a little precaution won’t hurt.” She raised an eyebrow. “I assume you’ll be the one to tell her?”

Alec nodded curtly. “I sent her to look over Camille’s belongings first.”

“Okay.” Lydia replied, marking a piece of paper. “Tell her I’ll have payment ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Patrol’s in two hours if you want to join.” Alec said as he headed for the door. He heard Lydia snort behind him followed by a loud laugh and his lips quirked upwards. He had invited her once when he saw her pounding the punching bag at the gym and afterwards, he just kept inviting her. After all, it was more productive to kill demons to blow off steam. That’s why he did it as much as he could.

Outside the office, Izzy was stood waiting. He inclined his head then went on his way to the fifth storage room. Izzy fell into step beside him.

“I saw Catarina.” Izzy stated to his unsaid question.

They moved along the hallways in comfortable silence, their walking naturally in tandem. An act as ingrained into them as their Shadowhunter training from years of practice and familiarity. However, silence wasn’t exactly something Izzy was fond of so it wasn’t a surprise when, halfway to the fifth storage room, she started talking.

“Has Magnus contacted you yet?”

Alec sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. “No.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Izzy asked with an undercurrent of concern. “Maybe you should try sending a fire message instead.”

“Maybe.”

“Or he could have changed his number. You never know.”

Alec shook his head. “He had it almost two weeks ago. Why would he change his number all of a sudden?”

“He could have lost his phone.”

“Seriously? He could conjure it back with a snap of his fingers.”

Izzy shrugged. “It was a thought.”

“Thanks for trying.”

They reached the destination and stopped in front of it.

“Any time, big brother.” Izzy patted him sympathetically before opening the door to reveal Philip wearing a stern expression.

Alec shifted his sister to the side slightly and saw Philip relax. “No problems?” He asked as he shuffled his sister into the room.

“No.”

“You can go.”

Philip closed the door behind him and then it was just him, his sister and Catarina left inside.

“Hey Catarina,” Izzy beamed when the warlock smiled at her.

“Hello Izzy, Alec. There aren’t anything of magical value yet. Though, there are a couple of things that I know Magnus owns. I sorted them into a pile over there.” Catarina pointed to an open trunk nearly full of odd sorts of things.

Alec felt rage boil inside of him. “Why does she have so much of his belongings?”

Catarina paused in her work for a moment to give a meaningful stare at all of Camille’s things as if she was trying to decide how much to say. “He never went back for his stuff after they broke it off. She loves messing with his mind and we,” She cleared her throat. “It was best he avoided contact with her.”

Alec shared a look with his sister. They both noticed her cutting off her sentence after “we” and were similarly curious. He was about to ask when Izzy hardened her look and gave a side-glance to Catarina. Taking the hint, he filed that query away and pursed his lips.

Any other time and he would have gone on to ask Catarina about Magnus but what with the many secrets he had been keeping from his own sister when it concerned the latter, he didn’t want her here where she could overhear something that shouldn’t be shared to anyone else. Izzy was family and he knew she was hurting because she _knew_ he was hiding things. She always knew.

The secrets though were not his to tell and he was adamant about clearing them with Magnus first before telling his sister and… Clary. As Izzy would undoubtedly tell the red-head no matter what he said. Or she wouldn’t. One could never tell with Izzy.

“Could you leave us, Izzy?”

Naturally, his sister frowned at him and pinned him with that special stare of hers that made him feel really guilty. Thankfully though, she pivoted on her heel and exited the room.

Alec let out a sigh of relief and switched his attention back to Catarina who was gazing at him in a measured way. “I wanted to ask you about Magnus.”

“And you couldn’t ask with your sister around because..?”

“I haven’t told anyone anything they don’t already know. The less information circulating about Magnus’ involvements with us, the slimmer the chance the Clave uses him to pretend they’re making progress like what they did to Meliorn.” Alec walked over to the corner of the room and sank onto the chair there, looking down as he clasped his hands together. “Have you heard from him?”

Catarina waved her hand towards the door. “Soundproof spell.” She explained. “Why are you asking?”

“He hasn’t been replying to my texts. Hasn’t answered any of my calls. It’s been two days.”

“What?”

Alec lifted his head up at the surprised tone. “He left the day he woke up to look for information elsewhere.”

“That was merely an excuse though.” Catarina worried her lower lip and he recognised that as a sign that she was withholding something from him. It was getting increasingly frustrating how little Catarina was sharing with him. He wondered if Magnus would be more open with him than this though considering how wary Catarina was, it wasn’t likely.

Granted, his relationship with Magnus wasn’t solid yet and they had only known each other for almost three months. He wanted to be understanding but not being in the know was a sort of pet peeve of his. He hated it when his parents kept things form him, hated it when the Clave refused to give information on some topics, hated it when Lydia first arrived and all the information was shared at her discretion – bottom-line was, he hated being kept in the dark.

“What is it?”

“Knowing him, he wouldn’t just be collecting intel.” Catarina ran her fingers through her hair. “Don’t worry so much. When Magnus is busy, he tends to forget the rest of the world.”

“Could you please try tracking him? I want to know he’s safe.” Alec let his worry show through. He watched as Catarina moved over to the trunk to pick up a picture frame then walked to where he sat.

"Tracking is one way." Catarina patted the object she held. "But if it's all the same to you, I'll fire message him first."

"I..." Alec trailed off as his eyes landed on the picture. It was a dated photograph that featured Magnus, Catarina and a surly older-looking man with horns. “He’s one of your friends?” He asked in a rather high tone. Suddenly, her cut-off after saying “we” earlier made complete sense.

Catarina made a strangled noise. “Yes. Ragnor was a dear friend of mine and Magnus’.”

Alec sat back in shock. He remembered distinctly Jace’s report concerning Ragnor Fell’s by a Shax demon that slipped through the wards guarding the warlock’s home. There wasn’t any mention about Ragnor and Magnus being friends. “By the Angel…” He muttered. Magnus hadn’t shown any grief at all that he didn’t think to ask if Magnus was alright seeing another warlock die and to find out that they were actually friends… There was no indication whatsoever. “ _By the Angel_.” He had previously thought that Magnus was easy to read. That, throughout all of their interactions, Magnus had been an open book. Apparently not.

“You didn’t know.” Catarina commented dryly. “It’s alright. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“I didn’t comfort him. I didn’t –,” Alec made a strangled noise himself. “ _By the Angel._ ” He repeated for the third time. “It’s almost been a month and he – Has he even grieved properly yet?” His voice curved into an embarrassing whine by the end.

“It’s really nice to see you worry over him. You should ask when he comes back. He’ll appreciate it.”

“When I ask, he wouldn’t tell me the truth though, would he?”

Catarina twisted to place the picture frame on the table behind her. “You should understand, Alec. Warlocks begin life as mundanes. We are taught to be free with our emotions. It is usually later on when we face the harsh realities and bitterness of life that we realise what you Nephilim are taught at a very young age.”

“Emotions are a distraction.” Alec parroted.

“Also a weakness.”

“He was… He’s always so expressive. I thought I knew… I…” Alec swallowed thickly. “Was it all an act?” He asked to himself, suddenly feeling like he knew nothing about Magnus. Was he being presumptuous to think he had an inkling of who Magnus was? Had it –

“No, Alec, he is always more expressive with people he cares about and you are one of the few.” Catarina stated sternly. “Vulnerability is simply hard for everyone. That is all.”

“He can trust me.” Alec forced out of his locked throat.

“You will have to earn it, Alec.” Catarina leaned down and put her hand over his clasped ones. “Do you trust your sister?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t keep things from her. Magnus is only in danger if the wrong people are in the know. Izzy is not one of those people and he would hate to be the reason that your relationship with her turns sour.”

Alec pursed his lips. “She would tell Clary and I’m not yet sure I can trust her.”

“Would she not keep your secrets if you ask?”

“If she does, she would have to lie to everyone and I don’t want to burden her.”

“Ask her which she prefers and don’t let these secrets stay between you two.” Catarina squeezed his hands then straightened up. “I’ll come back tomorrow to continue going through Camille’s things. My shift at the hospital is in two hours and I want to at least finish the wards today.”

Alec nodded and stood. “This way.” He gestured towards the door and led her out into the hallways. “Lydia wants you to check the wards and strengthen them if need be.”

They entered the ops room and he instantly saw his sister’s dark questioning eyes. With Catarina’s words in his mind, he met the stare unflinchingly and observed as the stormy black softened. His sister quirked her lips a bit and, typical of Izzy, he knew that they had an understanding. That she knew they were going to talk seriously later on and she wasn’t holding any grudge.

They would be fine.

 

*~*~*~*

 

It was the early hours before the crack of dawn in Berlin and Magnus was back in the villa he was now using as his main home in lieu of the loft back in Brooklyn. He had resumed his leisurely position on top of the wide bed, freshly bathed and clothed in a fluffy downy pink robe. To his left, there was a burnt brown-ish paper with hardly legible writing hanging on precariously atop the bedside table’s open drawer.

The writing, mere chicken scratch, seemed to have been done in a hurried manner, with harsh indents as if the ending letters had been embedded instead of jotted down that indicated anger or a heavy hand. It said:

_How could you consort with the Lightwoods after their many atrocities to our people? You were there when the Shadowhunters turned a blind eye to the slaughters. When Lucy was blinded by Valentine for no other reason than his absolute loathing for Downworlders. The Lightwoods will turn against us all. And you are helping them gain the trust of our people._

_Remember that you are our last hope when all else goes to hell in New York, High Warlock Bane._

Just then, a beautiful stationary appeared in a flash of violent navy sparks and floated its way down to Magnus’ stomach. He had been half-asleep, going in and out of consciousness for the good past hour. His eyes peeled open a sliver and he snatched the blue-ish paper from where it lay.

It was a message from Catarina with a few choice words and lines of lectures regarding his departure for no noble reason than to run away from his problems. He had thought she was being too nice back when he called her to inform of his decision. Perhaps it was that she was too tired to bother at that time and the rest of the moments they spent together after were in terrible circumstances in which neither could make conversation.

At the bottom, she had scribbled another lecture about Alexander asking for him, worrying for his safety having not heard from him in a good while. Why the boy didn’t send a fire message himself was mystifying. He didn’t deem her a reply back and instead lazily snapped up a fresh paper, waved his fingers over it and sent it to Alexander.

His stomach growled and it was then he remembered he hadn’t eaten in well over a week and a half, give or take. Normally, he would have eaten at least a scone every two days. Not that it was a healthy diet but at least he was ingesting food other than the olives in his drinks. Eating was an event reserved for calm evenings or dates. Drinking was his usual choice of nourishment.

Magnus wiggled up to a sitting position and waved his fingers for Steak Frites from the lovely Le Relais de L’Entrecôte in France. This was a dish that he could count on being great every damn time as this was their sole food offering. Beside him was a 1997 Barolo and a red wine glass from his own collection.

Halfway through his meal, Alexander sent back a reply in the special blunt way of the boy’s, mildly reprimanding and partly curious as to why he hadn’t been taking notice of his phone. He didn’t want to share why so he smoothed his hand over the paper and transported it to a secure box back in his Brooklyn loft.

He was fairly sure that if he succeeded in saving Jace, Alexander would be cross with him for not being brought along. Might even be rebuked again. Though, he still hadn’t received one from shutting the boy out of Dumort two weeks ago. And, he realised, he probably wouldn’t get any more when he returned with Jace simply because… well, Jace would be back and Alec would be consumed by his parabatai once more.

His gaze turned up when he noticed a glimmer in the air. The breath in his lungs hitched. He hadn’t noticed he was using his magic to spell out the word “SETTLE” again. His face turned stony, the words ebbing away into nothingness under his firm gaze.

As soon as he finished eating, he stood up and threw the waste in the thrash can then went back to his bed. He saw that the paper from whom he presumed to be related to the werewolf family he had helped back in New York years ago before the Uprising was now on the floor and there was a dark narrow splintered _thing_ peeking out from beneath it.

He bent down and flicked the paper away to reveal… A narrow mahogany branch, still mildly smoking, with a hasty sprawling calligraphy he recognised to be Meliorn’s. There were only four words in total and Magnus was left confused.

_Turtle Pond, NYC. Come._

Just then, a red leaf floated before him. It was from his obscure half-Seelie friend that had connections in the whole of Faerieland and, most importantly, impartial objectivity with everyone else except when it came to their friendship. His blood ran cold as he read the message and suddenly Meliorn’s message made absolute sense.

In an instant, Magnus was changed out of his robe into a tight dark blue trench coat and skin-tight leather pants paired with brogue boots. He was downing all the potions he had brought with him and a portal was swirling before him. With a snap of his fingers, blue sparks fell on top of him, glamour to hide from the mundane world, and he was ready. He stepped into the portal for the Turtle Pond, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Left behind was the red leaf, singed on the sides, boasting bold black letters.

**_Circle used meeting as lure to meet with Seelies. Things have turned ugly. They have entered the Seelie realm in the midst of battle. Meliorn awaits you outside the Seelie entrance at the Turtle Pond, NYC. Whatever your intention, you should hurry._ **

 

*~*~*~*

 

Meliorn was waiting patiently by the Turtle Pond, face rather tranquil despite the chaos that was most likely ensuing a few steps away inside the Seelie realm. “Magnus Bane, this is my way of repaying Isabelle’s group.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes but decided to ask his other questions later. “Where is Jace?”

The Seelie Knight made a few soft rippling motions with his arms and the trees stretched, branches swayed and leaves formed a gateway. “This is the direct route to where Jace is.”

Magnus stepped through but not before giving one last calculating look at Meliorn who merely continued to look serenely at him. Hm. When he entered the corridor, the first thing he noted – with annoyance – was how bright it was. The next was Jace’s obnoxious voice screeching… his name.

“BANE!”

Okay, so maybe Blondie _wasn’t_ screeching so much as shouting. But really, Magnus felt entitled to consider the boy an owl for a few seconds from bitterness. He was about to save Alexander’s parabatai so he should be cut some slack on this front. There was no telling after all what would happen when he returned to the Institute with Jace in tow.

“SETTLE” flashed in his mind for the enth time that day. He was tired enough to merely sigh in frustration and not have his heart ache. His eyes swept over the scene and he wrinkled his nose at the sight of around three Seelies sprawled on the floor like ragdolls, subdued by sprinkles of salt and iron cuffs. Jace was to the far right and, quite impressively, holding his own against two Circle members. To the Shadowhunter’s left were two Seelies in a conflict against three.

“Thank the Angel, I thought I killed you.” Jace yelled through the din, slashing the throat of one Circle member then moving on to the next that Magnus, smugly, slammed with powerful magic. “I wish I killed you…”

Magnus laughed at Blondie’s disgruntled face and shoved the Shadowhunter to the left into one of the Seelie’s duel; Jace grumbled and swerved away from a stray dagger flying in the air. “I’m too strong for a measly potion to kill me.”

Jace snorted unattractively from behind.

Just then, a piercing cry filled the room and Magnus caught a glimpse of the other Seelie bleeding with a protruding iron rod in the middle of their chest. He threw his magic over with a vengeance and smirked when the Circle member crashed against the wall with a resounding thud. “This isn’t what I envisioned when you told me you were going to escape.” He continued conversationally.

“Wasn’t my plan either. Two more and we can leave.”

“Good.” Magnus refocused his attention and engaged the female Circle member charging over to him. She was fast and soon her seraph blade was constantly swinging at him. It troubled him as he was unable to get the necessary reprieve to blast his magic. He tried to back away but between the subdued Seelies lying unconscious on the floor surrounding him and the conflict behind him, it was futile. “Fuck.”

Jace gave a roar of triumph and the Seelie he helped in combat was now running towards the bleeding one. “Having troubles, oh High Warlock of Brooklyn?”

“Shut it.” Magnus grunted. He slashed his hand in the air, succeeding in giving the Circle member a deep gash across the chest. It wasn’t enough to kill but it gave him enough time to deepen the wound. Before he could though, Jace darted forward, did a high parry, slashed and thrust the seraph blade forward. He frowned disapprovingly. “We could have interrogated them”

Blondie shrugged as he turned around with an infuriating smirk. The Circle member collapsed behind him. “Looks like you needed my help after all, High Warl –,”

Magnus’ eyes widened as a sharp pain erupted from his leg. He turned with a gasp to see a seraph blade protruding from the crook of his knee held by a vindictive Circle member clearly on the verge of death. He collapsed to the floor, breath hitching when the blade shifted inside of him.

“Fuck!”

View warped, Magnus squinted as Jace kicked the Circle member’s arm then impaled the malevolent man’s face. “Jace, we have to leave.” He inhaled deeply and pulled the seraph blade from his leg with a hiss, ignoring the blood flowing freely out of him.

“Shit.” Jace cursed.

Magnus winked flirtatiously as Blondie curled an arm around his waist and heaved him up to a stand. He snapped his fingers for a portal and then another snap. At once, the Circle members were hurled together, a glittery blue rope tying them all, and thrown into the portal.

He could feel the vibrations from the strong arms holding him up as Jace howled in laughter. It made him smile and lessened the pain in his knee as he hobbled over to the swirl of magic out to the front of the Institute. Cold gust breezed through them like a welcome and the Circle members lay at their feet, unmoving. “How’s freedom feel like, Blondie?”

Jace exhaled shakily. “Fantastic. You should go in. I’ll bandage you up.”

“Oh joy.” Magnus murmured.

Entering the Institute had never been more anti-climactic. The place was empty. Since it was going past midnight, he figured he’d forgive the lack of dramatics. He crooked his fingers and in came the bundle of Circle members. His lack of blood and use of magic was making him doozy so he unceremoniously dropped the pathetic Circle group onto the hard floor without remorse. He also stopped moving apparently as his feet weren’t touching the floor anymore; Jace had lifted him up with a tight grip on his waist.

“Come on,”

Magnus whined. “Give me my phone before you torture me. I want to read the texts your brother sent to lessen my pain.”

“Ugh.” Jace complained. “It kept vibrating thanks to Alec. Felt so weird. And did it even help?”

Magnus ignored him to observe the room they entered that was not the infirmary he was expecting. He lifted a brow in silent question while Jace let him go to sit down on the bed.

Blondie shrugged. “Shorter trip. I have bandages here anyway.”

“Hm, is this your room?”

“Nah.” Jace grinned devilishly. “Alec’s.”

Magnus rolled his eyes but discreetly patted the bed he was on. It wasn’t comfortable or smooth. It was very military. He poised his hand for a snap then paused. Alexander might not appreciate having his bed changed. That would be a trespass in boundaries. He sighed and went through the motions to extract his phone from Jace. He swept through his device’s notifications, swiping through distressed messages from Alexander and Izzy as well as demanding ones from Clary.

It was sweet how they cared. It had been a while since his whereabouts and wellbeing were anyone’s concern.

Jace finished the bandages and was straightening up when they heard the loud noise of thick heels on the floor. They exchanged looks just before the door swung open to reveal a well-polished Lydia Branwell.

She looked startled which was reasonable considering the circumstances. “I thought…” Lydia pursed her lips and gave them a stern questioning look. “How are you both here?”

“Well,” Magnus stood up fluidly – or at least he tried to. He was caught by Blondie around the waist as his vision swam. He wrinkled his nose. How inelegant.

“Just sit.” Jace demanded with annoyance.

And really, how dare he, but Magnus decided to let it go when he saw the concern in Blondie’s gold eyes. So he sat. “As I was saying,” Magnus addressed Lydia once more, ignoring his hazy vision. “We came through the front door.”

Blondie’s lips twisted to an amused smirk.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed and she placed a hand on her hip. “You’re aware that entering the Institute without invite is not allowed, High Warlock? And Jace, you will stand trial to the Clave quite possibly by tomorrow morning.”

“For what?” Jace spat.

“Easy.” Magnus briefly touched Blondie’s fisted hand then cocked an eyebrow at Lydia, jaw working itself as he tried to push past his dizziness and exhaustion. “On the contrary, Alexander is looking for me.”

“He’s not here. He’s on patrol but of course, you’re welcome to stay.” Lydia patted her pocket and pulled out a device. “They should be back soon… Hm.”

“What am I standing on trial for?” Jace barked.

Lydia flicked her eyes up to stare the Blondie down. “You left with Valentine. Surely you don’t think the Clave would just let that go?” She shook her head. “Alec and I have done our best to ensure that the Clave understands your hand was forced and you were given no choice. That you didn’t go as voluntarily as they thought you did. Still, it doesn’t look well for you.”

“I have information.” Jace replied immediately. “And we brought back Circle members.”

“Three of which you murdered.” Magnus muttered under his breath, lacking snark. “I have them tied up by the entrance.” He continued in a normal tone but shifted his gaze to the floor, half-closed.

Lydia’s face brightened up considerably. “Then we have leverage. This is exactly what the Clave was expecting you to do. Take your opportunity to infiltrate the Circle and return with information. If we play this well, you might leave the trial honoured even.”

“We?” Jace questioned.

“We. You, Alec, I, Clary, Jocelyn and Izzy.”

“Since when did you come over to our side?”

Magnus made a noise of agreement, eyes nearly closed.

“Since Izzy’s trial.” Lydia sighed. “I always followed the Clave because I thought their word was law. But these past few months here… I’ve learned a lot from Alec and the struggles here. The Clave isn’t the law. I think a lot of us have forgotten that we are all merely Nephilim. I’m not perfect.” Lydia’s lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “But I’m learning.”

“I was right. You _are_ great.” Magnus lifted his head and smirked tiredly.

Lydia perked up. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Magnus raised a brow.

“I have admired the work you did with my ancestor, Henry Branwell, since I was a child.”

“Ah, of course, Henry. Thank you, my dear.”

Lydia smiled then looked down to frown at her phone. She tapped the screen a few times and shook her head before returning her gaze to the both of them. “I must return to my duties. I’ll pick up the Circle members on my way.”

Magnus barely tipped his head in acknowledgement, careful of how lightheaded he was feeling.

“Wait.” Jace called at her retreating form. “When are the others coming back?”

“They’re on patrol.” Lydia held Blondie’s gaze for a while then sighed. She moved swiftly into the room and closed the door. “They were supposed to be back half an hour ago. But according to their trackers, they’re still at The Dakota. I haven’t received a distress call though so I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Jace looked at her with mild disbelief. “I don’t care if there isn’t any call. I’m going.”

“No rest for the weary.” Magnus groaned, digging his fingernails to his palm in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Lydia sighed again. “I don’t suppose I can stop you from leaving?”

Jace shrugged. “Unless you want to detain me.”

“There’s no need for such drastic action. Just come back.” Lydia replied almost resignedly. She promptly left the room, pointedly leaving the door open.

“What the hell. I was expecting a fight.”

Magnus’ lips twitched at Blondie’s bemused expression. “Shall we?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t come with.” Jace crouched and checked over the bandage.

“I appreciate the concern, Blondie, but I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” Jace cursed, ripping out the blood-soaked bandages and setting out to redo his work. "I swear, Bane, if you bleed out, we are no longer comrades in war.”

Magnus would have rolled his eyes if he didn’t think it would disorient him. “That’s not how it works.”

“Of course it is. Alec will bury me. We can't be comrades if I'm dead.”

A fluttering erupted in Magnus’ stomach the same time as a bitter taste crawled into his mouth. It left him faint. “We actually can be but I’m sure you'll live. Alec loves you too much.” The words were uttered in a tone as stale as centuries old crisps.

Jace made a non-committal hum as he tightened the bandage. “Your bleeding won’t stop. Can’t you heal yourself?”

“If I could, I would have.”

“You really shouldn’t come.”

“Seriously. Your concern is starting to disgust me.”

Jace huffed as he stood. “If it were Clary in your position and Alec allowed her to fight anyway, I’d be pissed.”

“And how’s that romance going?” Magnus hung his head back, catching sight of the myriad of warring expressions displayed on the other’s face as he did so.

“…stubborn.”

Magnus heard as he came to. He dimly realised he had blacked out for a few seconds. Shit. “Fine. I’ll make you a portal then go back to my loft.”

“Nah, I’ll help you back to your loft then I’ll go find them.” Jace tugged Magnus’ arm over his shoulder once more. “Come on.”

“This would be so much better if you were Alexander.” Magnus weakly waved a portal to existence, swallowing harshly in an attempt to steady himself when it seemed his body was giving up on staying conscious.

“Will you quit complaining?”

Magnus grunted from pain as his leg was jostled but ultimately didn’t mind it as it jolted him awake. “And ruin my own fun? No thanks.”

“By the Angel. You’re such a pain.” Jace muttered as they passed through the portal to the loft. “I don’t understand what Alec sees in you.”

“At least we’re on the same page.” Magnus replied. “As in I don’t get what he sees in you.”

“I’m his parabatai.”

Blondie said it as if it was the most obvious answer in the world and perhaps to Jace, it was. Sadly, Magnus wasn’t talking about that. “And why you’re his parabatai in the first place is a mystery.” He retorted instead. “My bedroom is the last room on the right.”

“I’m the best Nephilim there is.” Jace replied blandly. “Of course I’m his parabatai.”

Magnus frowned as Blondie kicked open his bedroom door. “There is something to be said about Alexander’s greatness in turn then.” He said mildly.

Jace near-unceremoniously dumped Magnus on the bed. “He’s my parabatai. And he’s my brother.” Blondie stated simply and once more, it was like what he said explained everything.

Magnus tilted his head and closed his eyes. “Those are answer enough, are they?” He heard his own voice waver.

“Exactly.” Blondie clapped Magnus’ shoulder. “Rest well and I’ll send Alec over when we finish.”

“How good of you.” Magnus waved his fingers for another portal, slumping as the last of his magic drained out of him. “Off you go to The Dakota then.” He opened one eye in time to catch the arrogant and slightly tired grin Jace flashed his way before disappearing through the swirling vortex.

The portal snapped shut and Magnus was left alone in his loft. The bandage on his leg was soaked through again, blood steadily dripping down his shin to soak through the duvet. Typically, Magnus ignored his injury and swung himself more fully onto the bed. He laid his head onto his numerous pillows with a long-suffering sigh.

He could feel his weariness to his bones. He deliriously imagined Alexander choosing to come see if he was well instead of staying with Jace, glorious Jace back from the clutches of Valentine. Magnus laughed at himself with the last of his strength then he was out like a light.

 

*~*~*~*

_Here we are just souls in the dark,_

_Crying out for something true._

_Crying out for something to hold onto._

**Author's Note:**

> I have breached the very niche love for Jace & Magnus friendship!
> 
> Please do comment your thoughts as I would love to hear them and it's always great to get many perspectives! I particularly enjoy reading rants about the happenings in this fic, possible scenarios of future fics, the occasional "AAAH! ANGST. MY POOR HEART." and, well, anything really. I just enjoy comments. ;)
> 
> I enjoy getting kudos too <3
> 
> Ah, I do have a [Tumblr](http://maztri.tumblr.com/). I mostly post about Harry Shum Jr., Malec and Matthew Daddario these days. You can chat with me at length there :)


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